Like Lightning To My Heart
by xxshebeexx
Summary: On a stormy spring night while returning from Sinnoh, Ash, Misty and Brock shelter in an old lighthouse. Waking in the middle of the night, Ash finds Misty alone and scared, with only him for comfort. Oneshot, AAML, Pokéshipping. R&R is love!


_AN: _This is a (very early!) entry to a Valentine's Day contest by the community Satokasucastle on Livejournal. It takes place as Ash, Brock and Misty return from Sinnoh (I'm imagining that Misty travelled there to meet with her friends, like she did in the Hoenn episodes.) My third AAML oneshot, enjoy! Incidentally, R&R is love:)_  
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_Like Lightning To My Heart_

Rain drove across the windswept hills of the Sinnoh coast, its accompanying thick clouds obscuring the evening sky and stars. Storm tossed waves hurled themselves at cliffs and beaches, drowning the sand and rocks in churning blue-green water. Although it was trying its best, the lighthouse perched precariously at the cliff's edge couldn't breach the thick blanket of rain and darkness.

On the shore road, three figures battles their way through the gusting wind, arms held up protectively over their faces. Their destination shimmered tantalisingly close; the pinpricks of light that announced the resort town were only a few hundred metres down the curving road.

It took them the better part of twenty minutes to reach the town, and they piled into the first hotel they could find, a weather beaten three storey affair which had started life with whitewashed walls and blue shutters, both of which were now peeling.

Ash, Misty and Brock stood in the reception for a moment, shaking the rain from their jackets, water dripping from their hair and trousers to form puddles on the white tiles. The receptionist, tucked in behind a mahogany desk, looked up from her magazine and blinked behind her wire-framed glasses.

The trio approached her, trailing water across the floor. Brock was the first to speak, leaning against the desk and smiling disarmingly at her.

"I know it's late, ma'am, but is there any chance of a room for tonight?"

The receptionist merely blinked again, not even bothering to lay down the magazine. "Are you joking with me?"

"Huh?"

"We're fully booked up. Don't you know what day it is?" Incredulity strained her voice.

"Um…"

"This is the Seashell Hotel – one of the most popular hotels on this stretch of coast, especially for Valentine's weekend." She peered down her nose at Brock.

Brock looked bashful for a moment. "Ah. Valentine's. How could I forgotten?"

Ash and Misty snorted simultaneously from behind him.

"It means that all the hotels in the area are full tonight," the receptionist continued, dryly. "Unfortunately for you." She glanced out one of the windows, which promptly lit with a flash of lightning as if to accentuate their misfortune.

"Is there nothing you could do for us?" Misty pleaded, dreading the thought of having to go back out into the wind and the rain.

The receptionist merely shrugged a negative and buried her head back behind her magazine. Ash, Misty and Brock sighed and braced themselves for the gale.

"What are - we going to - do?" Ash shouted into the wind, once they were back on the road. The lights which had twinkled so invitingly only minutes before were now dwindling into the storm behind them.

"How - could I forgotten - Valentine's day?"

"Brock!"

"Sorry."

"I can't believe – this town doesn't even – have a Pokémon centre!" Even while shouting in the storm, Misty managed to sound indignant.

"Look!" Ash called, pointing away from the road and up the rain drenched hill above their heads. "What about – the lighthouse?"

Brock and Misty weren't going to argue, they'd had their fill of buffeting winds and torrential rain to last a lifetime.

Climbing the hill wasn't easy; the grass was slippery and footholds were few and far between. More than once, one of the three lost their footing and would have fallen if it were not for the hands of the other two reaching out to catch them. Pikachu and Azurill were the only ones who seemed to find the climb easy and skipped ahead of their trainers, visible in the swaying grass only when a flash of lightning sent a burst of light across the hill.

Finally, they reached the summit and the lighthouse. It was an old building, even more cracked and peeling than the Seashell Hotel. Its yellow beam of light was faint, hitting roiling black clouds before it could send its message out to sea.

The door was set into the base, painted a dull red. Brock, Ash and Pikachu pushed at it until it eventually gave way. It swung open with a screech barely audible over the rushing wind, half ripped from its hinges. Misty grabbed Azurill into her arms and tumbled in after her friends.

The entrance was absolutely pitch black, and there was a great deal of fumbling around before Brock managed to pull a torch from his backpack. They all blinked in the sudden glare of light.

"Ew, I'm absolutely caked in mud!" Misty said in disgust, running a finger across her nose and flicking the glob of mud to the floor. Azurill tittered and trotted to the staircase at the back of the room.

Brock and Ash looked at each other's mud splattered jackets and suppressed the urge to laugh.

"Yeah, great, can we get around to eating now?" Ash said, sweeping his hand across his brow and being rewarded by a mud smeared hand.

Misty rolled her eyes. "You would be thinking of food at a time like this." She stalked over to her Azurill. "I'm going to see if this place has a bathroom. Or a sink. Or even just bucket of clean water somewhere."

"We'd all better go," Brock called. "There's only one torch, seeing as you two never see fit to actually pack things we need."

Ash and Misty had the grace to look embarrassed at the reprimand, but quickly brushed it aside to head up the rickety wooden staircase.

"Whoah, this is a little old," Ash said, gripping the banister, and sweeping Pikachu into his arms before it could fall through a hole in the rotting wood. "Maybe we'd better be a little careful looking around."

They explored the first and second storeys, the beam of Brock's torch revealing two floors of disintegrating wooden furniture, damp stone walls, puddles of water on the flagstone floors and broken bits of furniture randomly scattered about the place. The stairs to the third floor looked even more unstable than the previous two.

"Maybe we'd better stay here," Brock suggested, swinging his backpack the ground. "There's an old stove over there, we can see if we can it to light."

"Won't it be too damp?" Misty asked, setting Azurill on the floor and examining the grate.

Brock fished a few newspapers from his bag and waved them at her. "I come prepared." He tore the newspapers into their individual sheets, rolled them up and tossed them into the grate. Ash shrugged and grabbed the leg of a stool lying beside the stove and tossed it in on top of the paper.

It took a lot of coaxing and a lot of matches to get a fire going and even longer for a small pot of baked beans to cook over the feeble flames. It did, however, give them time to take off their mud splattered jackets and shoes and wash their faces and hands over a cracked stone basin in one corner of the room. Wrapped in blankets, they ate the beans with a slice of bread and listened to the wind howling around them.

Dinner finished, they unfolded their sleeping bags and lay them close together by the fire. Misty was the last to crawl into hers, tucking Azurill in beside her.

They lay in silence for a few moments before Brock said, "I still can't believe I didn't realise it was Valentine's Day tomorrow!"

Ash groaned into the gloom. "Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Er, no. I had plans!"

"Oh yeah?" Ash could hear the sarcasm in Misty's voice, though he couldn't see her – she lay on the other side of Brock.

"For your information, I could have had a date lined up."

"Yeah, I'm sure the Officer Jennies and Nurse Joys in Sinnoh are more susceptible to your charms." Ash pictured Misty rolling her eyes and grinned.

Aloud, he said, "It wasn't through lack of trying though, was it, Brock?"

"Mmm," Brock mumbled, shifting in his sleeping bag.

Misty giggled. "I don't know how you managed without me, Ash, to keep Brock in line."

"It wasn't easy," Ash replied with mock seriousness, his grin spreading.

"Leave me alone, 'm asleep," Brock grumbled into his sleeping bag.

Ash turned to his side, Pikachu in his arms, closing his eyes and smiling. He heard Misty sigh and then silence descended, broken only by the gusting wind outside.

It must have been at least two or three hours later when something made Ash's eyes snap open. He sat up slowly, Pikachu stirring in its sleep. The embers of the fire were still glowing faintly in the darkness and the wind was still tormenting the feeble walls of the lighthouse. Their backpacks were still slumped together on the floor and Brock was curled up tightly in his sleeping bag beside Ash. Ash looked beyond Brock and saw that Misty's was empty.

Alarmed for a moment, he bolted to his feet. Where could she have gone? And why? He shivered. Clad only in shorts and a tshirt, he was going nowhere. He pulled his shoes on and scrabbled around for his light jacket and pulled it on, glad of the bit of warmth it afforded him. He glanced at Pikachu still snuggled into the sleeping bag, and decided to leave his friend asleep.

He padded across the stone floor, avoiding the puddles around the staircase, swiping Brock's torch as he went. He flicked the switch and the beam of light cast eerie shadows onto the bare walls. He decided against going downstairs – they'd explored the two stories below thoroughly and there was nothing to see down there. Instead, he turned the beam towards the staircase leading to the third floor.

The stairs swayed threateningly as soon as he put his trainer on the first wooden slate. Bracing himself and treading softly, Ash ascended the stairs slowly and carefully.

The third storey was just as empty and bare as those below and the following two floors were two. It was as Ash trotted up the final staircase to the top floor, that he saw anything.

The lighthouse beam was housed on the sixth storey, still attempting to throw its light out into the storm. It swung around in an arc, ancient machinery struggling to swing the heavy light around. Rain pounded against the tall panes of glass in the windows. And there, sitting in a dark corner, huddled against the glass, was a slim figure with flame red hair.

Ash walked across the flagstones, his surprise evident on his face. "Misty!"

She glanced up at him, rubbing her goosepimpled arms. "Ash, what are you doing here? Why aren't you asleep?"

"I could say the same for you." He stopped in front of her.

She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep." Glancing down at her hands in her lap, a faint blush suffused her cheeks. "I don't really like storms."

"So you came up here, so you could see it better?" Ash's voice was incredulous.

The pink in her cheeks deepened. "I guess I thought it would help."

Ash felt a little out of his depth. This wasn't the Misty he was used to. The Misty he knew was feisty and fiery and stubborn and defiant – the last thing she would admit to was being afraid, especially not of something as insignificant as a storm. He decided he'd sit on the wooden window ledge beside her.

She stared at him as he did so. "What are you doing?"

"You're scared," he said plainly. "I'm not going to leave you alone up here."

His earlier surprise was now echoed on her face, before hardening into something resembling her usual defiance. "Who said I was scared?"

Ash gave her a look of disbelief and motioned towards the stairs as if to leave. "Want me to go?" As he made a move to stand, she quickly and quietly said, "Wait."

He smiled faintly and settled back onto the window ledge. The arc of light swung in front of them, but stopped just short of the floor in front of them.

"Ash…"

"Yeah?"

"You don't think I'm being silly, do you?" Her voice was low, almost hidden in the rush of wind. "Being … nervous… in a storm?"

He turned to her, catching her eyes in the dimness. They were wide open and glistening with unshed tears. That took him aback for a moment, he hadn't realised how afraid she really was. Reluctantly, and with a tinge of pink to his cheeks, he reached out and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Everybody's scared of something."

"You're not." She glanced down at her hands in her lap. "You're always brave and you always know the right thing to do."

"I guess it seems that way sometimes." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "But I only do what I have to do."

They lapsed into a companionable silence, listening to the crash of the waves far below. Rain flung itself against the glass, sending rivulets of water cascading down the windows, shaking the old panes.

Every time the sky filled with lightning and thunder boomed, Ash felt Misty shudder beneath his arm. His heart went out to her and without thought, gathered her closer to him. She snuggled deeper into his arms and he rested his head atop hers.

After a few minutes, she pulled back a little, just enough to look up at his face. He glanced down at her, suddenly aware of how close they'd gotten; their noses were only inches apart. His cheeks reddened; he'd moved without thinking. He'd never been so close to her, to anyone before. He could make out every detail of her face – her pale skin, the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose he'd never noticed before, the clear cerulean eyes, now dry and brighter than they had been a few moments ago.

"Ash?" she whispered and he felt the faintest breath against his lips as she spoke.

"Yeah?"

"Did you miss me? In Sinnoh?"

He smiled slightly, wistfully. "More than I ever thought I would."

That seemed to satisfy her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He could feel her heart beating against his and he moved his arms, dropping one to her waist and running one up her back until his hand buried itself into the loose red hair at the nape of her neck. She seemed to fit somehow; his hand rested on the bare curve of her hip. She felt smaller and softer and more fragile than she seemed in the daytime, with her flashing eyes, determined expression and defensive stance. She always had her guard up and they fought and teased relentlessly; refusing to give in to each other, or to anyone else for that matter. Ash had never imagined being so close to her and feeling her warm body against his. By rights, embarrassment should have been churning him up right now; he was clad in only shorts and jacket and she was wearing even less.

But somehow, he wasn't. Something inside his chest was tightening and his heart was racing against hers. The realisation came to him like one of the storm's lightning bolts. It felt right.

"Misty?" This time he was the one to speak, low and husky, into the dimness. When she looked up at him, he brought one hand to her face and traced a lock of hair across her forehead. Her eyes widened again.

"Yes?"

"Don't leave again."

"I won't."

"Stay with me."

"Ash, that's all I ever wanted to do."

Her eyes were shining now, and open. Ash realised with a jolt that he'd never seen her so open before, so willing to give everything. If he had seen his own face, he would have seen that his expression mirrored hers.

She reached up and cradled his face in her hands. Her eyes never left his as she leaned upwards and brushed her lips against his. The kiss was light and sweet and warm and it sent tingles coursing through his entire body. As she drew back, the beam of the lighthouse's lamp swung across them, illuminating the them in an intense beam of yellow. He'd never been kissed by anyone before and it wasn't until that moment, that he realised he'd been waiting. Six years he'd waited, without even knowing it until tonight. He'd waited for her.

"Hold me," she whispered.

As the beam of light left them in darkness he smiled at her and drew her to his chest again. Now that he'd finally found _her_, he had no intention of ever letting her go.

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Like all my other fics, this one has accompanying cover art. To see them, please visit my Livejournal (link in bio!) Hope you enjoyed the fic :)

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